Supression
by Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet
Summary: Long before the Sith Wars and 6,000 years before A New Hope, the Jedi struggled to hold a falling galaxy together, but with recent transitions and changes, some of the members aren't adapting as well as they need to... Indefinite Hiatus
1. Prologue

1:This is completely an "original character" story.

2: It takes place about 6,000 years before "A New Hope", so read the prologue I posted here to know what the heck is going on.

3: It's got some of the "forbidden love" thing going on, so if you think that's too clishe...well, I'm trying to take a new twist on it. shrug You'll have to read to see if I succeed.

4: I'm a much better writer than I used to be, but I didn't get that way with "Nice" or "Horrible" or "I want more" posts and comments. I got a lot of criticizm telling me what I did right, and what I did wrong (even if only opinions and vague posts). I welcome and actually encourage criticizm, so please, tell me what you think.

Now, on with the story!

Name: Suppression  
Genera: Drama/action  
Rating: PG (I will let you know if the rating changes. It will not be due to content).  
Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars, I'd have a beard, and a lot of money right about now.  
Writer: Obi-quiet (aka Anne Camp)

Prologue

Sevaral forms of Republics have existed for over 25,000 years in the Galaxy, standing for peace and justice for all, interspersed with only a few uprisings and downfalls before the darkness of the Empire finally swallowed it with its gaping maw.

During one of these "Uprisings", an Alliance existed, similar to the previous "Republic" in many ways, although no where near as strong. Those who had been "elected" had maintained a shaky peace for a few decades at best. It was formed from the territories of the Galaxy finally deciding to mend their petty disputes over area, and which systems belonged to whom.

Sadly, as with many systems of ruling, corrupt leaders cut this government's productivity short.

Presidents began electing themselves within only a few short years of the Alliance forming, with little resistance from the people who no longer cared (or could afford to care), and the already shaky system fell into a brief period of war and monarchy, which itself lasted for several decades.

Of course, brief only describes this time when all of the events surrounding it are considered. The people who lived and died during this period (of which, many sad tales of destruction, heartache, and hatred can be told) lived at best in fear, and at worst as slaves or under heavy oppression...if at all. The repercussions of some of these unspeakable acts did not end until centuries into the Age of the next, Republic.

Yet many people and groups still fought for freedom. The group of students, historians and specially trained warriors, called the Jedi, was one of them.

While their origin had remained unknown for centuries, they were the most trusted with safety and security, and their skills were hightly sought after. While many worked in secret as protectors of freedom, most became hired hands for the corrupted government officials until the leaders of the Jedi School announced their intentions to become a political party. This did not grant them high favor among the officials, although it gained the admiration of the people occupying any planet that heard of them.

Many had shady bounties placed on their heads, but with closely guarded secrets and strong bonds within the newly called "order", their powers and political prowess grew. It became an accepted, although mythical established fact that only a Jedi could kill a Jedi, and anyone who had connections to them was either obliterated or exonerated by those men and women who wanted power.

Unfortunately, a dark menace that the Jedi had fought since before their records showed, began to manifest itself in the unstable monarchy systems that had begun to break off from the original Alliance.

Many feared this ancient threat, and more than one Jedi fell victim to it.

It is during this time of dissent, destruction and war that this story takes place.

(A/N: I changed it AGAIN (last time!). Sith do exist, because it's 6,000 BBY.)


	2. Corillia

"I'll be fine, Master," the pale, teen face on the screen rolled his amber eyes in mock frustration. "It's only a little reconnaissance."

"I know," Jedi Master Rita LeBac leaned forward with a sad smile touching her plump lips while she brushed the nut-brown strand of hair that hung down by her face behind her ear. "But how many such missions end as only that, Sidon?" She asked.

He shook his head as a smile crossed his face, and he raised his four-fingered hand to brush through the black fur that covered his head and back. "Master, I'm touched that you worry about me still, but know you taught me well." His calm voice radiated the certainty she'd always come to expect from him. "I'll be fine," he repeated and shrugged. "And if not, you'll be the first to know..." he paused and looked up for a second as his smile suddenly receive a mischievous touch, showing the first two of four sharp canines that he somehow fit inside his surprisingly small mouth. "Well, next to the council of course."

Rita couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course," she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. After a few seconds, she grew somber again. "And how will you fare when you cut yourself off from the force to hide your presence?"

"Only as well as you have taught me, master," he replied quietly. "I only hope I can live up to your, and the council's, expectations as I go through the trials."

"You will, young one," she bobbed her head slightly, confidence and pride pouring from her words. "You will. May the Force be With You."

"And you as well, Master," he bowed in return, and the screen went blank after one final smile of farewell. She shook her head at the now empty, black screen. He would remain on this mission for a few months at the least, and she couldn't help but worry.

But Worry led to fear; and faith and fear could not coexist. With a sigh, she accepted the worry she felt, and reminded herself of the faith in the Force and her comrades that she'd so often depended on.

It worked, and she soon found herself in much better spirits.

Almost as an afterthought, she moved into the cockpit of her small ship that drifted closer and closer to her destination. Pressing a button as she left, the com-screen retracted onto the wall, taking up still more space on the craft, that truly couldn't be called more than a shuttle and a pasted hyper drive The thought left her wishing she could install one of the new, compact holographic image projectors instead of the old-fashioned, two-dimensional screens, or to get a better ship. Still, this had been the fastest vessel that could take her to the planet she used to call home.

Home. Corrillia. The name of it, the thoughts...even being in the system somehow seemed to calm her, and clear her mind.

The council had chosen her for this mission with good reason, and only partially because she knew most of the planet like the back of her hand, as did most of the older Jedi. It had been the planet where the Jedi school had been located until the "Head" as they had called the leading staff previously, announced their intentions to be a political party.

The move to Courscant hadn't been the best idea in Rita's opinion. The "temple" as they now called it, seemed open and vulnerable, even in the middle of a spread of a city that had remained safe and peaceful for centuries...well, as peaceful as you could be on a planet that would probably end up being an entire city itself in only decades.

Still, the children seemed to take well to the school's new home, although they didn't seem to be as ambitious as she remembered her fellow students having been (not to mention herself)--for which she thanked the Force...usually.

A soft chuckle escaped her throat as she once again compared herself to the surprisingly level-headed student, or padawan (she knew she wouldn't ever get used to the new terminology, despite it having been in effect for 10 of Courscant's years) she'd practically raised. As a child, a teenager, and even a young woman, she'd been nothing short of a rambunctious, spontaneous, child-like and carefree person. How she'd ever taught and guided someone as calm as Sidon went far beyond her knowledge. She'd concluded years ago, that it had to be the will of the Force.

Her own teacher had been tested to the limits time after time keeping an eye on her as a student, and then a Knight, and finally a Master–which he'd done until he'd died only a few short years before. He'd probably lost sleep trying to figure out ways to help her gain patience, while it seemed to come to Sidon naturally.

Despite his feline ancestry, she couldn't help but feel like a mother to the boy...even if he did seem more regal and fit to be a teacher in the Jedi Temple than she ever would be.

A light flashing on her dashboard brought her back to reality, and she quickly opened the smaller com screen she'd placed at the front of the ship, having left the better one in back for long-term communications.

"Ship Marietta requesting landing permission from Corrillia Home Base," she spoke clearly into the broadcasting microphone, knowing that they wouldn't answer for several minutes. They never did.

The ship had entered the planet's rotation path, and currently followed the interception coordinates she'd programed into it. She acknowledged the change of course by switching the warning light off, and relaxing into the knowledge that she'd soon step foot onto her planet.

She'd always felt that Corrillia belonged to her, and she to it. There was something about her former home that seemed to call to her. Sometimes she'd almost describe it as an urge to do everything she possibly could to accomplish whatever she chose to do, while other times, it just seemed to call her back and she'd have to fight of the homesickness. Many times she felt like a representative of sorts...and she knew she always would. To her, this planet–this solar system--would always be home.

"I am beginning the landing sequence," she spoke yet again into the com unit, and reached for the throttle.

At that moment, a feeling overwhelmed her, freezing her in place.

"This mission is going to be significant," she whispered to herself, knowing full well that what she'd said was true, although she couldn't say that the thought gave her any hope or excitement.

She'd been sent to investigate the subject of possible new systems being devoted to slave trade. If the allegations proved true, the Jedi and other loyal political parties could use it to their advantage, and stir some feelings into the lives of many of the richer families that lived in the known galaxy. They hoped to reach people who didn't seem to care about anyone or anything anymore. People of influence who could make a difference, and make the galaxy a better place to live in.

If the rumors proved false, then the millions of people they thought might be enslaved would actually be free and on their home worlds, worrying about nothing more than making it to and from work, or living their day-to-day lives.

Either way, she had seen this as a win/win situation, but only if those races and people who valued freedom and peace continued to devote everything they could to keeping it alive.

So why did she have a wary feeling warning her now? No, the thought did not please her at all. She trusted her feelings, as all Jedi did, and she knew that she wanted to find out more about what might be in store for her.

Realizing she still had several minutes before landing procedures would be necessary, she decided to meditate and try to understand what her feelings told her.

Taking several deep breaths, she sat back quietly, and released herself to the Force.

The healing energy that flowed from all life forms surrounded her immediately, warming her entire soul and body. With a contented, humble sigh, she began the light trance she knew would be the least degree of meditation required, and submersed herself in what the Force told her.

Your path ahead will be difficult...far more difficult than anything you have faced before...but do not fear, and listen...you will be guided.

The Force never spoke in words, but came instead with vague images and precise feelings. These thoughts also came to her as plainly as a day on Alderaan.

"This is Corillian Home Base asking for your ship's identification, please respond..." She vaguely heard a nasal, male voice break through the hazy comfort that still flowed through her, as it always did whenever she went into a trance. Slowly, and almost regretfully, she pulled herself back to the present, confirming the fact that she had indeed only been "out" for a few minutes.

With a sigh, she leaned forward and re-opened a com channel to the planet.

"This is Jedi Master Rita LeBec, and my identification code..." she began, knowing full well that this would be a LONG trip.


	3. Contact

Marn Geanit Barrik II couldn't remember a time when he hadn't dealt in weaponry. Even in the memories he retained from his early youth, his father's words rang clear about which piece of equipment would do the best in which situation, and who he should or shouldn't sell said items to.

His reputation had spread wide across the galaxy, and more than one bounty hunter with under-the-table deals came to him with orders and requests—which made him the perfect contact.

"Now this one," he said softly to a his latest customer, a woman in a mask, as he pointed to one of his latest stock, "will shoot accurately from 250 sects. However," his voice lowered even more, "if you want true accuracy," he reached under the table and pulled out a blaster at least three feet long. "This is what you'd be looking for." The mercenary pondered the gun for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, I don't want a blaster. I want a crystal."

"A focusing crystal?" He smiled, placing the undoubtedly illegal weapon behind the counter once again. "I have them in every shape, size and color you'd like." In seconds he'd spread some material onto the table, as well as the contents of a bag that had appeared in his hand.

Crystals and rare gems spilled out, more than one undoubtedly worth a small fortune, but she simply scoffed.

"I need one for a light saber." The man froze immediately and looked up, fear now showing in his eyes. "Er…That would be the ONLY kind I do not have," he reached for the crystals warily as she took her mask off, to reveal mid-length, light-brown hair, and two grey-green, sparkling eyes.

His mouth dropped open in surprise. "Rita?" She couldn't help but chuckle loudly at the look on his face. "Do you think that anyone besides a Jedi would ask for such an object?" She smiled and reached across the counter to pick up a random crystal, studying it with mild curiosity.

"Heh, I guess," the man scratched his salt-and-pepper head, before his face twisted into annoyance and anger. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Something in his tone made her look up, the crystal dropped and forgotten.

"Marn, who else has been asking for one of these?" She asked softly but firmly.

He shook his head and leaned forward. "I've heard tales of dark people asking for your little secret around the Galaxy. Not many live to tell about their encounters, but as most rumors go, I'd say there were a maximum of five attacks…if they're to be believed at all."

She sighed and looked down, realizing the implications that this held. "Are they to be believed?" she asked.

He sighed again, looked down and nodded his head. "From what I've heard, and who I've heard from--yes." Silence settled on the room for several seconds before Rita spoke again

"This is disturbing news, and I will take it up with the council, but that is not why I've come today."

"Well then," he stood strait and smiled, although she could tell his new attitude was mostly forced. "What information do you need this time?"

She pulled back from the counter herself, although her voice didn't raise above a low mummer. "We've heard rumors about slave trade recently, in some newly discovered outlying systems. We need to know if those rumors are true."

Marn sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You Jedi...never stop by for just a happy visit anymore do you?"

"I'm afraid not," she shrugged. "But you have my word, that in the future, I will 'stop by' for nothing more than simple hello, and maybe even a purchase that has nothing to do with information."

"Yeah, sure," he shook his head, sarcasm lacing his words. "Everything has to do with information." With another shake of his head, he looked back at her. Then he sighed, as if resigning himself, and nodded.

"You can believe them, but not even I would have the courage to tell you who or where."

"Not even if I made it worth your while?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you have in crystals again?"

Sighing, he took the little cloth out again and spread it out. Then he disappeared behind the counter yet again, reappearing with three crystals that would look unique only to the trained eye.

"Here are your Jedi crystals, and I want double their normal price."

She shook her head. "We guard those caves so well, I do not know how you get them at all."

"That, I can tell you," he replied. "How many Jedi have gone missing lately? At least one," he pointed to the blue crystal. "I wouldn't begin to guess how someone got this off of any Jedi if they weren't dead. However, if you want these off of the black market, this will be your last chance."

"What about these?" she asked. "No Jedi wields a red blade..."

"Those two," he stood strait, "I didn't even ask. That information is to dangerous to carry around."

"I see," she put a finger to her lips. "How about I make you a deal. I'll buy these two," she pointed to the red ones, "save this one for me," she gestured to the other one, and then looked up. "And I'll pay triple."

He looked surprised. "Plus an extra 2000 for the information."

She raised an eyebrow. "That dangerous?" He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes, but she could feel the fear emanating from within him.

"Very well," she pulled out several bags, full of various purified precious metals and laid them on the counter.

"All I can tell you...is to look near the Bates system."

"That is a good standard day's travel past Alderaan," she said with surprise, although her face could have been carved from stone. "I thought it held no systems capable of sustaining long periods of humanoid life."

The merchant nodded and continued. "If you trust me, look there. The operation is run by a high-ranking official and business man. I don't know who. That's all I know."

She knew he was telling the truth before he had even finished speaking. "Thank you," she bowed, and placed the two red crystals in a pouch on her belt. "I will go and discuss this with the council before I put your information to the test. If you have any need of assistance–"

"Call you," he waved his hand. "Yeah, I know. And then I'll die before you even get here."

She smiled warmly at him. "You are a friend of a Jedi, despite your dealings. If you would like I could arrange for someone to come and stay with you–"

"And paint myself a literal target? I think not," he scoffed.

A look of sadness touched at her eyes, although her smile never dimmed. "Then I bid you farewell," she bowed again as she slipped the mask on her face and ducked out of his humble store.

"Indeed," he sighed, and gathered his newly aquired wealth. Why were Jedi such a pain to deal with?

- - -

Once in the street, she slouched into a slow gait, hoping to look like another random bounty hunter, and headed for the outskirts of the city. She had one more stop to visit before concluding her business on the planet.

* * *

It has come to my attention that my timeline is a little off ahem, so if anyone knows where I could find information (links or books), I'd really appreciate it.

Thank you again to everyone reading this!


	4. ArPharazon and Bishop of Battle

Thanks to everyone reading this. I know it's kind of difficult sometimes with all the SW stuff out there.

Anywho, I just got Knights of the Old Republic...and I'm really looking forward to playing it!

Oh, and when he says "soft", he means instead of Adimantium, he's down to a diamond. shakes head Some people.

* * *

Only a tiny percentage of the systems and stars in the Universe have habitable planets without the help of some form of advanced technology.

This was not one of them.

The few hunks of rock orbiting the giant red star could barely be called planets (e to their size and/or shape—or lack thereof), and all of their paths could easily be classified uneven or unstable at best…which made this system the ideal hide-out. One quick scan of the system would scream "uninhabitable" rejecting all colonists, and its lack of extraordinary substances or anomalies would bore even the most interested scientists within a few standard hours.

Both the dying Star and the System undoubtedly had some sort of name and number, but few cared enough to know.

He was not one of them.

All mattered to the black-cloaked figure was that the system, and the tiny training center, served his purposes.

He'd had it built, and either erased the memories of those who had helped work on it…if they were lucky enough to survive at all. At this point, only two people existed who knew of the tiny dome's location.

He, of course, was the first. The second, he knew, would arrive any second.

He stood, staring out the large, darkened, transparesteel windows that graced the wall most often facing the Sun at this point in the giant asteroid's rotation. The large, deep red sun had begun to fill the horizon. Unlike on most planets, the sun would soon overpower the entire horizon.

He simply stood there as he had for the last hour, going over hundreds of scenarios in his mind, one of which would shortly unfold. He'd manipulated the events so that most ended in his favor. Still, a small percentage didn't.

He hated it when anything didn't turn 100 in his favor. Thus, he normally hated everything all of the time.

Suddenly, the blood color of the sun burst over the horizon, catching his attention momentarily as it raced through the black pit of space.

Red. The color of deception, lust and blood. The color of evil.

Black. The color of despair, deception and destruction. The color of death.

His colors.

He didn't' consider himself a thoughtful man. Intelligent? Yes. Meditative? No. Thinking slowed one's reactions, so he only allowed himself the luxury of true contemplation when he felt supremely safe. That rarely happened.

Still, this did not mean he didn't take in his surroundings. The moment he walked into a building, he could catch onto details that would boggle most beings minds, or at least stun them into a slight pause.

He would then use that hesitation to his own advantage.

But his lifestyle meant that self discipline had to be at its highest definition so distraction couldn't lure him into its trap.

Today, however, he allowed himself a moment's pause to watch the amazing scene unfold before him through the UV-ray protection coated building and force-field. Despite the fact that he knew himself to be in far more danger than "normal", he found himself pondering the unique sunrise.

What would the sun look like if he as a human didn't have to look through the diffused protection that would keep his eye from being burned in their sockets? The pure power and clarity even the tiniest view would command almost aroused jealousy within him.

That was the kind of power he longed for.

Pure, perfect, commanding power from anyone who laid eyes on him.

Suddenly he pulled his thoughts back to the present, berating himself for even allowing a moment of distraction to enter his mind.

Jedi did that.

Weaklings did that.

Not him.

Not Sith.

Again, he let his mind move back to the scenarios he'd gone over so many times already.

He would be ready.

He always was.

Only seconds later, another, familiar presence entered the complex, and then the enormous training room where the dark figure now stood.

The newcomer did nothing to mask his presence in the force, instead radiating a confidence that had always been and would always be his greatest weakness.

"I know you've been expecting me, ArPharazon," the second person spoke non-chalantly as he walked on cat-like feet into the room, despite his clumsy human physique.

"Of course," ArPharazon never even turned from the view, radiating his own confidence.

Darkness radiated from both figures, neither making more movement than a few casual steps, but both obviously wary of the danger the other posed.

"You are not worthy of the title of 'Sith Lord'," the second figure suddenly accused, hatred seeping his words.

ArPharazon remained un-phased.

"And who are you to make such an accusation, Jeff?"

"A member of the order," Jeff pulled off his black robe with a sneer, and throwing it behind him, revealing a young man in his mid-twenties, wearing a metallic brown/black material. His dark brown hair had been cut just below his ears, giving him an unkempt, dangerous look, and his clothing suggested one who prized personal safety over comfort and appearance. "You knew what kind of a threat I posed to you. That's why you tried to kill me when I left all those years ago, and ultimately failed…like you always have."

ArPharazon lowered his own hood, revealing a face not much older than his adversary's. His own hair had been cut close to his head and a well trimmed go-T that seemed to complete the regal air he commanded.

"I am the Bishop of Battle," Jeff reached to his side and withdrew a long, cylindrical object. "And you will not escape me this time, my old Master."

"Humph," ArPharazon snickered as his own robe dropped to the ground behind him, revealing a loose, black shirt, firm black pants, and almost knee-high, black boots, trimmed with a dark red. "I doubt I will need to."

With that said, the younger man jumped at ArPharazon, infighting the red-light saber he held. The latter turned and met the attack with his own blood-colored sword, and the battle ensued.

Block, parry, block parry, attack, attack, attack, block, attack. They jumped back and forth across the room in a breathtaking array of jumps and clashes, the only sound being the hums coming from the light sabers and the sound of their foot falls hitting the floor.

After several seconds, they separated, circling and eyeing each other with hateful glares.

"I shouldn't have lowered my standards to become your master," ArPharazon hissed.

"And I still became greater than you'll ever be," Bishop shot back. "You cannot win. I have reached if not surpassed your strength."

ArPharazon's smile grew onto his otherwise dangerous, glowering face. "A mere bishop, trying to overthrow a king? Perhaps one day you would have learned, that sometimes, you do not need to be successful to win."

With that, he threw out his hand, using the force to activate the trap he'd had in place for days, and disappeared through one of the many doors with a cackle.

"You will not beat me that easily," Bishop said to himself as he too rushed out of the room.

The entire structure imploded only seconds after ArPharazon's prepared shuttle left it, speeding away from the dead planet and the ruby star.

"He's not dead," the man growled to himself. He'd played through this scenario too. While less favorable, worst case: the boy escapes immediately and unharmed, but unable to find his old master.

Jeff would search for him, then, that he knew, and it might be advantageous to avoid all other Sith as well, until he could confirm or disconfirm what the good "Bishop" had said.

So, he needed a place to stay, where the others wouldn't find him for a while. Somewhere he could find a new apprentice who could wear down any enemies who he had to confront, despite the fact that he'd be able to hold his own against anyone, and beat most of them. He'd done it before, but he'd allowed himself to get soft in recent years.

He'd have to fix that.

And he knew exactly where his new base of operations would be.

With a grim face at this rather annoying turn of events, he set his coordinates for a single planet: Curst.


End file.
